


Irony

by Anonymous



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Prompt Fill, WMG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-02
Updated: 2010-10-02
Packaged: 2017-10-16 01:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/167028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captchalogue Prompt: from the Homestruck WMG page:Dave is/was a textbook case for Social Services, and suffering badly from Stockholm Syndrome. So, Bro keeps hardly any food in the house, and abuses Dave both psychologically and physically (puppets, swordfights, hell even pushing him down the stairs). You'd think Social Services would have stepped in by now. Maybe they've tried to, but Dave insists that everything's fine because he still thinks of Bro as this super-cool guy and can't admit the truth.<br/>Bro is awesome and I love him, don't get me wrong, but I kind of really want a fic for this.<br/>I don't really have any specifics but I would love to see a concerned John/Rose who knows whats going on (or at least has a pretty good idea,) trying to convince him that somethings wrong/he needs help, ect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Irony

((Oh man this is kind of rough. But, you know, hope you enjoy it anyway!))

It wasn't the first time Dave had seen a social worker. Probably wouldn't be the last, either. Not that he minded much. It was cool. Obviously these cats were just getting the wrong impression. It was fine. He didn't mind setting them straight about how awesome Bro was.

"Dave, if you don't mind me asking, where did you get those bruises?" the worker asked softly, careful to watch her tone. No matter what tone she took, though, Dave always remained cool as a cucumber. Or maybe it just seemed that way because of his shades.

And it didn’t matter how often he was asked, either, he would never take them off. Said it would be a major disrespect to Ben Stiller and his creepy gaunt face.

He shrugged at the question. "Fell down the stairs."

The worker furrowed her brow. It was such a typical response. "You said that last time we met."

At this, he shook his head, sighing as a slight smile clung to his lips. "It keeps happening."

The social worker was silent for a moment, placing her fingers lightly against her face as she thought. “And why does it keep happening, Dave?”

“Stairs are a fucking death trap,” he answered coolly. “Your people’s issue is really with the landlord. Dude doesn’t keep shit up to code. He’s one of those creepy assholes. You know the kind. The kind that get off to watching people fall down stairs and nearly break their fucking arms.”

“We’ve discussed you not swearing like that,” the worker stated calmly.

“Yeah, yeah. So we did.” There was a long pause between the two of them.

“…Dave, I want you to understand that it’s _okay_ to talk to me.”

“Shi- ure yeah, I know. Call me crazy but I’m pretty sure that’s what I’ve been doing.”

She shook her head. “That’s not what I mean. Please, if you’re having problems with your brother –“

“Whoa,” Dave cut her off, “Stop, collaborate and listen. I’m about to set you straight about this, okay? Bro is awesome. He’s the best Bro. He has all kinds of sweet swords and puppets and …The puppets are so awesome. So, so very awesome. So sweet.” For a moment he almost looked a little uncomfortable, but it was so fleeting that the worker couldn’t even be sure that she had seen it. Regardless, it was probably worth mentioning.

“Do these puppets of your brother’s make you – “

“Okay, no. You didn’t take in that little conversation we had at all. I’ll repeat my meaning again, so you understand. Ready? It’s coming at you. This was the point: Bro is amazing. And that’s really all there is to say on the matter.”

That really was all there was to say on the matter, too. After that point Dave staunchly refused to say another word about his brother, or any of his issues. Instead he began to talk about the 2004 version of Starsky and Hutch and how unerringly cool Huggy Bear was in a manner than didn’t seem entirely sincere.

Eventually she had no other choice but to dismiss him.

“ _Please_ don’t hesitate to give us a call if you have any problems with –“

Dave had shut the door to her office before she could even finish her sentence.

\---

It was good to be home after that daunting experience. Of course, there was no food in the house, as usual, and that was kind of shitty. But other than that it was pretty damn swell. Dave made a bee-line for his room, stopping only to greet a few of his Bro’s puppets – except for the smuppets, their soft but firm tushes were a little too much for Dave to handle sometimes. Bro himself was nowhere to be found. That was a little unusual. Normally he was out hanging around in the living room. But it was fine. He was probably busy. Such a cool, cool ironic dude couldn’t always take time out of his schedule to tend to his also-pretty-cool-but-not-as-cool-as-him little brother.

It was fine. Dave understood. It wasn’t even a thing.

Shrugging his backpack off, Dave sat down at his computer, wagging the mouse until it came out of sleep mode. It didn’t take more than another few seconds to get pesterchum running. Glancing at his chumroll – which only consisted of three people, because they were the only ones cool enough to make the grade – he noticed that two of his chums were online. No sooner had he processed this than one was pestering him.

\-- tentacleTherapist  [TT]  began pestering turntechGodhead [TG]  at 17:55 --

TT: Strider.  
TT: Greetings. Your arrival at home seems to be somewhat dilatory today.    
TG: whoa  
TG: step back for a second  
TG: i know youre all anxious to talk to me  
TG: if i were you i would be too  
TG: but you gotta give me some space  
TG: let me breathe  
TG: let me spread my wings and fly up into the sky like that greek asshole   
TT: I believe you mean the sun.  
TT: The big fiery ball in the sky that had doomed the wings of Icarus to melt into oblivion.    
TG: right   
TT: Your wish to fly into the sun aside, how are you fairing?  
TT: Is there any particular reason for your tardiness this evening?    
TG: tardiness  
TG: okay rose  
TG: lalonde  
TG: you are not my teacher  
TG: you dont get to use that word  
TG: because if you were wed be in this strange hot for teacher relationship  
TG: or hot for student relationship  
TG: where you end up getting arrested  
TG: for being such a creep   
TT: I suppose you are right, Strider.  
TT: My gross “macking” upon you would surely require intervention from the authorities.    
TG: hey  
TG: dont be so harsh on yourself  
TG: youre not that gross   
TT: Nonsense!  
TT: I will continue to beat myself up over this.    
TG: yeah on second thought maybe thats for the best  
TG: anyway though since youre so curious about my tardiness  
TG: and how i probably earned a detention slip from you  
TG: im late today because the lady with the caterpillar eyebrows was all up in my business   
TT: The social worker?    
TG: yeah that one   
TT: Is there any particular reason why she was “up in your grill?”    
TG: okay firstly i didn’t even mention grills  
TG: there will be no barbeques here today okay  
TG: secondly it was about my bro again  
TG: dont know why they keep bringing me in  
TG: what do i need to do  
TG: type bro is awesome into some shitty online translator  
TG: and print it out in each language and read it to them  
TG: so that they get that  
TG: they have excellent and his brother   
TT: While I am certain that they have excellent.  
TT: And while I am equally certain that you are also in possession of this quality.  
TT: I must confess that I am somewhat concerned about the possibility of your brother not possessing this attribute in the copious quantities that you say he does. 

Dave stared at the screen, not exactly believing the bright purple – excuse him, velvet – text upon his screen. Uncharacteristically, it was a good few moments before he could respond. And even then it was hardly up to his usual eloquence.

TG: rose  
TG: what   
TT: I am going to state some of my opinions on this matter, right now.  
TT: And I would like for you to please try to take in what I’m saying.  
TT: Please, Dave.  
TT: You’ve stated on many other occasions that your Bro has left you physically damaged.    
TG: what  
TG: whoa hang on  
TG: sure bros kicked my ass  
TG: but its not like i didnt fight back  
TG: besides its just training  
TG: its not a big deal okay   
TT: What of you falling down the stairs?  
TT: That hardly seems like simple sparring.  
TT: Moreover, you’ve complained more than once about your home never having food in it.  
TT: And of having to hide a stash in your closet if you ever wanted to eat something there. 

Once again, Dave could hardly believe what he was seeing. His mouth was somewhat agape and his hand was shaking against his mouse subconsciously.

TG: what the hell  
TG: everything is fine  
TG: ive told you that a million times  
TG: theres nothing wrong with the way bro treats me  
TG: hes the best brother  
TG: dont try to push off your passive aggressive tendencies with your mom onto my family rose   
TT: This has nothing to do with my mother, Dave.  
TT: And I don’t think I’m the one that’s being passive aggressive, here.    
TG: ...    
TT: I just don’t want to see you hurt.  
TT: For now I will believe you that there isn’t a problem.  
TT: If, however, there is, I beg of you to seek help.  
TT: Tell your social worker about it.    
TG: yeah sure okay  
TG: ill be sure to do that  
TG: or i would if there were any issues  
TG: but there arent  
TG: things are so cool over here  
TG: its like were living in a sub zero freezer in the middle of the arctic  
TG: so chill  
TG: but anyway  
TG: i got to go  
TG: i think i hear my super awesome bro calling me  
TG: were probably going to go out to eat or something  
TG: we do that sometimes  
TG: just so you know  
TG: but yeah later lalonde   
TT: Goodbye, Dave. 

\-- turntechGodhead  [TG] ceased pestering tentacleTherapist  [TT]  at 18:36 --

Bro, of course, was not calling him. That didn’t matter, though. He couldn’t keep talking to Rose. She probably saw through his lie, but it didn’t even matter. Inhaling and exhaling a little more heavily than normal, he glanced at his chumroll again. Egbert was on, but he was idle anyway. Even if he wasn’t, though, Dave had mostly lost his enthusiasm for chatting. Quickly, he signed off of the program.

He didn’t move to get up out of his chair, however. He just stared at the screen, his chat window still open even after he had ceased pestering. It was stupid. Dave had no idea what Rose had been thinking. Things were so great. So great.

And, even if they sometimes weren’t, that was okay. It was just Bro being ironic. Because it was ironic for a caretaker to not be very good at taking care of their charge, wasn’t it? It definitely was. And it only made Bro that much better.

Taking a shaky breath, Dave lifted up his shades ever so slightly to press the heel of his hand against his eye. Only because he was a little tired, though. Not because there was a wetness forming there. He wasn’t crying. It wasn’t okay to cry. It wasn’t cool. It wasn’t ironic. Bro wouldn’t approve.

Sliding his shades back down over his eyes, he slowly shuffled back over to his bed, embroidered with spades and hearts and diamonds and clubs, the symbols of the Midnight Crew. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he squirmed under the messy sheets. Wrapping them tightly around himself, he watched the still bright computer screen for another moment before turning away and shoving his face partway into the pillow case.

Now this was ironic. It was ironic because of how pathetic he was being right now, while being surrounded by the icons of notorious gangsters. No doubt they wouldn’t approve. But that was okay. It was. Because this was ironic.

And Bro would approve.  



End file.
